


Jolene

by CMDAK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Sleepy Q, pretty much jilted Madeleine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: Whatever drop of alcohol he might have had still coursing through his veins instantly evaporated. “Me? How could I—?”“With your scorched and tangled locks of hair, with ivory skin and eyes of emerald green, that’s how,” Madeleine continued in a low growl, narrowed eyes burning with anger and jealousy. “That combined with your smile that is like a breath of spring and your voice so soft like summer rain is not something with which I can compete.”
Relationships: James Bond/Q, Past James Bond/Madeleine Swann
Comments: 3
Kudos: 187





	Jolene

It seemed Q was cursed to never have at least a month of normal mornings. When he was hired to work for MI6, special forced broke down his door at 6 in the morning to make sure he didn’t catch wind that he had been discovered and run away. The start of his ‘residency’ was composed a random mornings check-ups and then there was that one cursed morning when he was promoted to the position of Quartermaster. After that, the days kind of blended with the nights, so he didn’t think he really had a proper morning.

It was the pure madness that was MI6 after Oliva Mansfield died that kept Q from actually going on vacation but after a vacuum of power was created within their biggest unseen enemy, he just had to take advantage of the peaceful time that followed. He was also advised by the current M to make himself scarce for a bit because of the whole ‘lied to my direct superior about the location of a troublesome agent that had recently blown up a very old building in a country and caused an international incident’, but that was not the point.

Bond had – once again – saved the world. That happened because he went rogue and Q, Eve, Bill and even M went rogue with him, but pencil pushers liked to be pedantic fucks that acted like congratulating someone for a job well-done after thinking outside the box was like selling their souls to Satan himself.

And yet, even with Bond retired, Spectre in shambles, and MI6 in R’s capable hands, Q was denied of that sweet and ever-elusive late morning.

Q had tried to ignore the doorbell, arguing with the paranoid side of his brain that if it was something important or if it was some bad guy that was coming after him, that door would no longer be on the hinges, but then the knocking came.

The annoying, loud, never-ending knock that sounded like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his brain and damn it all to hell he was reminded why he hated hangovers.

“I’m coming!” He shouted, kicking the covers off of him and stomping so hard towards the door that he was sure he had caused structural damage to the building. “If the world is not about to end, I swear to god that I’ll—Oh, Miss Swann.” The beast that had reared its ugly head had instantly returned to its slumber and his posh accent returned at the sight of the distraught woman. Bond had driven off into the sunset – another thing for which he needed to lay low for a bit – with her not two weeks ago. What had the bloody man done? “Is there something that I can help you with?”

“Yes,” she said and then let herself in his apartment, a boozy smell following her.

Whatever Bond did it was _bad_ and Q was going to make him suffer for making Miss Swann suffer which led to his bloody vacation being ruined so early in the morning. But until then Q had to remember to be civil. “Why don’t you come in and make yourself at home while I get a pot of tea started?” Okay, so he currently sounded overly sarcastic but he also smelled of booze and she was associated with Bond, so he was going to need a cup of strong tea before his manners returned to him.

Thankfully, Madeleine also needed a cup of tea before her tongue got untied – not that she was making any sense.

“I didn’t even like him in the beginning!” She said for the fifth time, throwing her hands to the sky with so much energy that Q thought they were going to come off. “He was ill-mannered and the first thing that I noticed was those ears of his!” Why did Q think she would be talking about someone else was something he’ll never know. “But then I noticed his blue eyes and realized his defence mechanism.” She let out a dreamy sigh and Q rolled his eyes.

“Well those ears aren’t used for hearing, that’s for sure,” Q grumbled, pushing his up his head so he could rub his eyes.

Madeleine chuckled. “But they are excellent handlebars if you catch my drift.”

It was way too early in the morning to have this conversation. “No offence, Madeleine, but though I had to sit through the honeypot missions, I’m not really the kind of person who can have these sort of conversations. I’m not _all_ vanilla but voyeurism – even by word of mouth – isn’t my thing.” He didn’t feel this awkward even when the low tier agents busted in his house while he was walking around naked. “If there are any problems in _that_ area—”

“You!” Madeleine snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You are the problem in _that_ area!”

Whatever drop of alcohol he might have had still coursing through his veins instantly evaporated. “ _Me_? How could I—?”

“With your scorched and tangled locks of hair, with ivory skin and eyes of emerald green, that’s how,” Madeleine continued in a low growl, narrowed eyes burning with anger and _jealousy_. “That combined with your smile that is like a breath of spring and your voice so soft like summer rain is not something with which I can compete.”

Q subtly pinched his leg under the table, annoyed that what was happening was real and not a dream. “Why would you need to compete with me?”

Madeleine looked at him like he was an idiot and Q shifted in his chair, his two cats winding around his legs in an attempt to calm him down. “You _can’t_ be seriously asking me that.”

“I am,” Q said simply, now openly sniffing the teapot to make sure that nothing had been somehow sneaked into it.

Pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a deep breath, Madeleine continued to explain her issue in a much calmer manner. “He talks about you in his sleep as if ranting about how bright you are constantly wasn’t enough.” She let a tiny gasp and looked embarrassed like she hadn’t meant to say everything she did. “I promise you that I’m not crazy enough to be jealous of my lover’s friends but you’re not _just_ a friend. In his subconscious, at least. God knows he’s still as stubborn as a mule when it comes to admitting something.”

An awkward silence stretched between them for five full minutes although Q was too busy trying to digest and process everything and decided if Madeleine was high, hit her head, or if she simply was incredibly cruel when it came to pranks.

Q didn’t really know Madeleine and while he trusted her a little bit – mostly because she was the first woman in one year of missions that didn’t betray Bond – she was still the daughter of someone who had tried to kill Bond in the past after killing one of the loves of his lives, so he couldn’t be blamed for doubting her.

“I’m not sure he even sees me as a friend,” Q eventually said. “Maybe something broke and that’s why he was talking about me. You know, I never charged him when I fixed things for him, even though it wasn’t work-related so that has to be it.”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t _moan_ the name of my repair guy,” Madeleine deadpanned, starting to dig through her bag. Q was a short twitch away from shocking her but stopped when he found himself staring at an aeroplane ticket. “I’m not going to ask you not to take him away from me since you already did, but I will ask you to mail the clothes I forgot there back here. And don’t insult the both of us by acting like you don’t have a folder on me.”

“I don’t really fly unless—”

“Unless James is in trouble,” Madeleine finished for him, also fishing out a little bottle of pills. “Non-addictive pills that do not need a prescription to help you with your nerves during the flight and of course I knew you hated that because James made sure to remember how much of a fuss you made whenever a plane was involved.”

Q continued to stare at the offered items, focusing more on his feelings instead of on the part of his mind that worried that this might all be a trap. For the latter, he had smart blood coursing through his veins which he would activate if he left on the trip and he also knew where Bond was because of course, the bloody man sent him postcards. But for the former…

His crush wasn’t exactly a secret for anyone in his department. Or for anyone in the accounting department, or in the secretarial pool – he couldn’t even blame Eve for that one since he was _that_ obvious – and M who was doing his best to keep that from the higher-ups who wanted Q’s head. He was pretty sure that most of the double oh agents were also aware of his crush but they had the decency to pretend like they didn’t and it was beyond obvious now that James didn’t know which made Q happy – that meant that James hadn’t been using his emotions against him to get all the shiny things he didn’t deserve.

“He says the strangest things when he has a high fever,” Q said evenly, trying to squash his hope that was beginning to rise much like it did when James had dropped by his department on that last day.

Rolling her eyes, Madeleine finished her cup of tea and got up. “I won’t force you to go to him, of course, but I do wish the two of you finally got together for your own emotional sake and for the sake of everyone else. Whatever you decide, I wish you nothing but the best, Q.”

It was still too early for Q to make such a decision.


End file.
